


Elbow Grease

by HedonistInk



Series: When Stars Align [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, College Student Lance (Voltron), Developing Relationship, Lance (Voltron) is a Dork, M/M, Mechanic Shiro (Voltron), More tags to follow, Rating for later chapters, Wingman Matt Holt, hunk does not want to know about lance's dick, lance is thirsty, matt holt is the worst wingman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-09-24 21:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9786854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedonistInk/pseuds/HedonistInk
Summary: Lance's car was a rustbucket and he knew it. It was practically held together by duct tape and sheer willpower. But still Shiro diligently did his best to fix whatever new issue had popped up with Lance's car every time. And always in the least expensive way that he could. Lance felt a little bad about the fact that the last few "issues" had been a little less than accidental. But it wasn't Lance's fault the older mechanic was unfairly hot. He was only human and the guy was sex on a stick.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been sitting on this au for literally months now and I just... I need to get it out into the universe. My notes on this universe alone are over 20k. On the bright side, that means updates should be frequent, even if this first chapter is a little short. As always, comments & kudos are loved & inspiring!

Lance's car was a rustbucket and he knew it. It was practically held together by duct tape and sheer willpower. But still Shiro diligently did his best to fix whatever new issue had popped up with Lance's car every time. And always in the least expensive way that he could. Lance felt a  _ little _ bad about the fact that the last few "issues" had been a little less than accidental. 

But it wasn't Lance's fault the older mechanic was unfairly hot. He was only human and the guy was sex on a stick. 

Yeah, okay, Lance was only nineteen. And yeah, okay, Shiro was  _ definitely _ like twice his age and probably not even interested in guys. But a guy could dream, right? And  _ oh boy _ did Lance dream. About the older man's scruff scratching against his skin. About those calloused hands with the grease smears on them pinning him down over the hood of one of those cars. About licking his way up the blackwork tattoos covering Shiro's right arm. About licking his way down lower to the fact the guy was  _ obviously _ packing heat between his legs. About Shiro fucking him in the bed of his big old truck. Yeah. Lance's dreams were vivid and  _ plentiful. _ And after almost two years of thirsting for the guy and jerking it to those dreams, he  _ really _ couldn't bring himself to have any shame about it anymore. He wanted to bang the hot older mechanic. That was just a fact. 

But after two years of just  _ thinking _ about it, Lance wanted to at least  _ try _ . If there was any chance--even the tiniest possibility--that Shiro would have any interest in him, Lance wanted to try. Even if all Shiro wanted him for was a fling. He just wanted to know what it was like to be pinned down by those broad, calloused hands or shoved up against the nearest hard surface and fucked until he couldn't walk right or--

"Lance?" Shiro's voice jolted him out of his thoughts and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He  _ really _ needed to get his thirst under control. 

"Whu-huh?"  _ Eloquent, Lance, good job. _ Lance tried to act casual, leaning against a nearby wall. Unfortunately for Lance, he still wasn't quite used to his final growth spurt and misjudged the distance to said wall, crashing into it painfully with his shoulder instead. Well, he could add elegance to eloquence on his list of positive qualities, apparently. There was no way Shiro was ever going to give him the time of day. 

"I  _ asked _ how you managed to let it get this bad under here. It should have been giving you low oil warning lights weeks ago." Oh. Right. In truth, it had. And Lance had ignored them and driven his car harder in an attempt to have an excuse to see Shiro again and for longer. He watched Shiro step back from the car slightly, wiping his greasy hands on a slightly less greasy rag. 

Stretching out long, spindly limbs, Lance shrugged, crossing the space to lean over the open engine. It was time to put the short shorts he'd spent ten minutes wriggling into to work. "Hmmh? I dunno… I didn't see any. So which part is it that I worked too hard?" Lance let his hips sway slightly, looking back over his shoulder at Shiro. Shiro who was staring at Lance's ass. Lance exaggerated the sway and the older man's gaze followed it. 

Holy shit. It was  _ working? _ Shiro was staring at his ass and it even looked like he might have been  _ blushing. _

"Shiiiiiro?" Lance piped up after a long moment with an amused tone, trying to keep the giddy squee out of his tone and maybe hopefully mostly succeeding. 

"Hmmh? What? Oh… Uhm… Right…" Shiro crossed back over to him and leaned over the engine. He was closer than Lance had expected, their shoulders brushing slightly. Oh god. Lance had not calculated for this. Oh god. He was very  _ very _ unprepared for how  _ hot _ Shiro's shoulder was against his. Soon, Shiro was pointing to something, talking, but Lance could barely manage to make his brain process words. So instead he just hummed thoughtfully and nodded along, focusing his willpower into not leaning heavier against Shiro's thick, muscled arm. "So you've got all that?" 

"H-huh? Yeah… Yeah… Right." 

"I'll do what I can to see… if I can find some used parts for this, keep the costs down." Shiro looked as if he wasn't sure he could. But Lance knew he would try. He felt a little guilty about how  _ hard _ he knew Shiro would try. "But Lance you  _ really _ need to keep better track of the gauges and what they're telling you." 

"I don't speak  _ car, _ Shiro. That's your job." 

With a roll of his eyes, Shiro reached out, ruffling Lance's hair before heading for the office. "How about you make it your job to not cost your parents any more money with these repairs by trying to be a little more careful, alright? Now come on, let's get a bill written up for your parents." 

"Okay, okay. I'll be more careful. And listen when it does dinging noises." 

"Good boy." 

The words sent the air rushing out of Lance's lungs as he tripped over his own feet. But he didn't hit the ground. Instead there were arms around his waist and firm pecs under his hands and  _ oh _ oh Shiro was  _ right there. _

"Whoah there, kid, you okay?" 

Lance could hardly register the question enough to respond. His hands were on Shiro's pecs. His  _ hands _ were  _ full _ of Shiro's  _ pecs. _ Jesus the man was even more ripped than he looked. And he looked pretty ripped. " _ Yesdaddy. _ " Lance wheezed before his eyes went wide in mirror of Shiro's as he realized what he'd said. 

"W-what?" 

Lance sprung backwards, brushing off his clothes and straightening himself. "I said I'm fine! Don't worry. Yep. Yeah. You know me. Totally fine. Totally. Yep." 

Shiro stared at him for a long moment, lips pursed as Lance internally panicked. "Maybe you should come back later. Or have your parents come pick this up. It… could take me a while to write it up." 

Fuck. Fuck he'd made things awkward. A few minutes ago, Shiro was staring at his ass and now this. Fuck. 

"Y-yeah… Right, sure, okay. I'll just… Yeah. I'll… G'night, Shiro." Lance all but bolted from the shop to hide his shame. 


	2. Smashed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Lance's car is totaled, he worries it will be the end of his chance at ogling Shiro. But sometimes... there's another way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Subsequent chapters will come sooner, promise!   
> Slight content warning for depiction of car accident at the start of this chapter.

Lance's car was already about two minutes from being held together with elmer's glue and duct tape. He knew that. But she was still his baby, his  _ first car. _ Shitty as she was, she was  _ his baby. _

Which left him all the more lost and shaken when she was  _ gone. _

One moment he was driving home from dropping his sister's kids off at her place, blasting the radio and singing along at top volume. The next? The next, he was staring at an… an airbag—whoa was that what those looked like?—with searing pain radiating up his arm, the side of his head pounding, and shattered glass scattered across his lap. 

Oh.

Oh shit, what? 

Stunned, he could only sit there staring at the airbag as he tried to process what had happened. It felt as though his thoughts were moving in slow motion. It took a while, but eventually he managed to string things together. Looking right, he saw the passenger side of the car smashed in, vaguely remembering he'd been at an intersection—probably, was that real?—when the sudden slam had hit him. Somebody… some jerk t-boned him!? Oh shit. Oh  _ crap. _ He was in a car accident. He had to… he had to get out of the car, right? Get help? Call the cops? That was the one. 

Trying to reach for his phone only resulted in smaller yet equally searing pains along his arm. Lance gave up quickly. Someone else would call. It was mid-afternoon, after all. 

Lance was glad he was right. 

It took around two more minutes before there was a voice next to him, shouting at him through the side airbag. "You okay? Hey! You in there!"

"M'okay… just… hurts. ...Ambulance?" 

There was a pause. "They're on their way, buddy. Just talk to me. Keep talking to me, okay? What's your name?" 

And so, foggily, Lance did. The stranger kept him talking and busy all through the minutes it took for them to hear sirens. He could hear his mystery stranger explain—presumably to the cops—that he watched the other guy blast through the light and slam into Lance. The other guy had apparently scrambled out of his car and staggered off. He looked drunk, according to the mystery witness. 

Lance was distracted from listening then because a higher voice was talking to him. Paramedic. Asking him questions about how he was doing. Whatever Lance said must have been the right answers because the airbag popped next to Lance and soon the door was being wrenched open with a painful groan of metal on metal. 

Oh. Oh shit his car??? 

By the time all was said and done, Lance was shuttled to the hospital with a minor concussion and a badly sprained—although thankfully not broken—wrist. His ankle was sprained too, somehow—apparently he'd tried jamming on the brakes? When had that happened? Probably during the spinning. 

But his car? His car was… well… elmer's glue and duct tape weren't going to fix this one.  _ Totaled, _ his parents had said. The passenger side of the car was caved in and the frame was bent. His baby was gone, smashed up beyond repair, destined to be melted down for scrap. 

Yet, strangely enough… that wasn't the worst part. 

No, the worst part was when Lance burst out  _ sobbing _ at his parents offering to buy him a  _ newer _ car. 'That way you'll have something more reliable to get to class,' they had said. And Lance had burst out crying like a child. Sure, a more  _ reliable _ car meant not breaking down as often. But that meant not being able to go to see Shiro as often. It meant less time to ogle and try to get Shiro to see  _ him… It meant the end of his chance with Shiro. _

It took two days before Lance managed to gather the courage to walk up to Shiro's. 

Fidgeting as he walked into the shop, Lance had to school his expression and focus on his breathing to try to not break down crying  _ again. _ Carefully, he approached the man half underneath the hood of a car, reaching for something. "H-hey… Shiro…" 

Shiro responded without even popping his head out from under the hood. "Hey, Lance. What's—" Actually turning to look at him, using a greasy cloth to wipe his hands, Shiro stopped. "Lance, what's… what happened to you!?" 

Oh, right, he looked like shit. Even with the tiny shorts he'd wiggled into, his face was still a bruised mess and the braces on his wrist and ankle were hardly appealing. "I… some guy t-boned me… Blew a light and… yeah." 

"Jesus…" Shiro ran a hand through his hair, smearing grease into it in the process. 

Lance tried to not groan at the sight. That just wasn't fair. How did Shiro make being greasy and dirty look so… hot. 

"You're alright though?" Shiro looked so…  _ concerned _ looking at him. 

Lance nodded before fidgeting with the bottom hem of his shorts. He pretended to not notice how Shiro was staring at the motion. "Yeah… I'm just… I mean… my parents are getting me a newer car… so… it'll probably not… y'know… break so much? It'll be… weird not hanging out around here, though… And I'm gonna be stuck without a car for like two months while the insurance comes through and my parents and I save up… Ugh, I'll have to memorize the bus schedule until then…" Lance groaned. As if this didn't suck enough already. He'd forgotten about that part. 

"I… I could drive you… maybe… sometimes… If you want. Drop you off at campus. Just… until you get your new car." Shiro hesitated. "...If that's not too strange to offer?" 

Lance's hands dropped limply to his sides in shock. "You're… what? That's…" Fucking amazing, is what it was. But still… "I wouldn't wanna take advantage of your kindness like that… It'd be for like at least two months…" 

Shiro shook his head, all but shoving himself back under the hood of the car but Lance swore he saw a blush before Shiro's face disappeared from his sight. "It's no trouble, really. Just like you said… It'd be weird not seeing you, right? And if I can help you out sometimes… I don't mind. God knows your car gave me enough business." 

Lance hesitated. He really  _ shouldn't _ take the offer. But… it was an excuse to not only spend time with Shiro, but to be  _ alone _ with the hot mechanic. Maybe he would even find out where Shiro  _ lived _ if he did agree. It had to be close by, right? The shop was  _ known _ for being a neighbourhood business, after all. 

"I… okay. Sure. That'd be… great. Thank you, Shiro." Lance paused. "Er… would tomorrow be too soon? I have a ten o'clock class. But like… whatever time works for you. Or not." 

Shiro laughed lightly, shaking his head. "Meet me here by nine thirty and I'll make sure you get to class on time." 

"Thanks, Shiro," Lance sighed in relief. He could kiss him. He really could. But then he might not get the chance to be alone with him. Excusing himself and thanking Shiro again, Lance left for the evening. 

The next morning, Lance showed up at a quarter after nine, backpack slung over one shoulder. His outfit was more… flirty than he usually would have worn to class. But he had  _ Shiro _ to impress. And it wasn't like it was  _ indecent _ or something. Just… suggestive with a crop top and shorts. 

Lance knocked on the side of the garage door, not wanting to startle Shiro where he was half buried under the hood. "Hey, Shiro!" 

Shiro popped his head out from under the hood with an easy smile. Covered in grease, he wiped his hands off on another greasy cloth. There was a smudge of grease on his cheek that had Lance wanting to reach out and touch his face. 

"Morning, Lance!" Shiro gestured to an antique black truck. "There she is, my sweet girl. Hop in; she's unlocked. I'll be out in a sec once I wash up." 

And then Shiro was gone and Lance was left to actually process anything he'd said. The truck was… gorgeous. Painstakingly well-maintained, the black paint shimmered in the sunlight. But it was obvious when Lance got closer that the truck had been… updated? Unless it was one of those rebuilds where they made a new truck look old? Lance wasn't sure. But the inside of the truck was all sleek black leather with purple metallic accents that managed to not seem… overdone. 

Lance ran his hand over the seat before hopping up into the truck to wait. 

The ride was… awkward, at first. Shiro seemed afraid to say anything, or just unsure what to say. Lance… just didn't want to say something wrong. So instead he reached over to flick on the radio. Shiro moved to stop him a moment too late and their ears were suddenly graced by… 

_ Pokemon The Movie's soundtrack!?  _

Lance turned his head to gawk outright at Shiro. He was sure his jaw was hanging slack ut he couldn't even be bothered with that because… " _ Pokemon? _ Seriously?" 

"H-hey, my generation  _ started _ Pokemon…" Shiro laughed, cheeks flushed with an embarrassed blush. "I completely forgot that was in there..."   


Holding his hands up in surrender, Lance shook his head. "Hey, I'm not judging. I just didn't take you for the type." 

"I have to have some secrets…" 

Lance ignored the way his heart fluttered in his chest at that. He wanted to find out  _ all _ of Shiro's secrets. One at a time. Instead, he opted for covering his hopeless crush by starting to belt out the words along with the CD that was playing. 

Shiro joined in. 

Their conversation went easier after that. Shiro, even if he was absurdly hot, was still just a big dork. Lance started to find the courage to ask questions about Shiro, his interests. Not many, of course, since it was only a thirty minute ride. But… it was a start. And it had Lance's heart fluttering and soaring within him. He really  _ really _ liked Shiro. 

In the end, Lance wound up asking Shiro for his phone number so he could just text him when he needed a ride. If Lance waited until Shiro was out of the parking lot to send a little "thanks for the ride :)" text? Well… Lance was proud of his restraint at using a smiley rather than a wink. He might or might not have saved Shiro's name with a heart next to it. But hey, he was only human. And what Shiro didn't know wouldn't hurt him. 


End file.
